


To Break a Routine

by Chryselis, Jawbone



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Breastfeeding, Comfort, Ferdinand lactates, Hubert misses breakfast and he's grumpy, Lactation, Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Married Couple, No sex in first chapter, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Only milk, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:22:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24162781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chryselis/pseuds/Chryselis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jawbone/pseuds/Jawbone
Summary: Hubert and Ferdinand have been married some years now and have gradually settled into their post-war routine.It hasn't been all smooth sailing however, and Hubert finds that has increasingly come to rely on his husband for creature comforts, restless as peace time has made him.Ferdinand is happy to indulge him, though he does sometimes wonder if what his highly strung husband really needs is a proper break from it all. A holiday, perhaps.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 5
Kudos: 61





	To Break a Routine

**Author's Note:**

> We hope you'll enjoy this little story, which we have lovingly dubbed "pure milk indulgence."
> 
> They're married, Ferdinand lactates, Hubert can't relax for the life of him, and maybe letting himself be a little smaller when he suckles on Ferdinand's breast helps.
> 
> Later chapters are much more explicit so tags will follow. Rest assured, they follow the same theme of milk and them needing a well earned break!

It isn't often that Hubert and Ferdinand find themselves rushed through their comfortable daily routine, years into their married life. Emergencies are few and far between, thanks to the mostly peaceful reign they've worked so hard to help Edelgard secure. So, it is a great annoyance to Hubert that reports concerning threats to the Emperor denied him his usual breakfast sweet in the company of his husband today. And who wouldn't be loath to miss such an opportunity, with a husband as eternally gorgeous and generous as Ferdinand? Hubert trusts his Ferdie would know their usual moment of intimacy is sorely missed, and indeed heaves a sigh of relief when he finds his husband waiting in his office between meetings. 

“Oh, Ferdinand dearest,” Hubert breathes out, hovering by the door while he awaits permission to enter proper, “I am so glad you're here.”

Ferdinand looks up from where he’s sat at his desk, busy adjusting an uncomfortably tight waistcoat, his expression matching Hubert’s.

“Darling, thank goodness!” Ferdinand exclaims, already holding out his arms to his beloved, “I was afraid you would be pulled away on business again. Come!”

The door dutifully locked, Hubert strides over and melts right into those arms. There’s no rush, only hands finding their way to known perches; Hubert’s at the nape of Ferdinand’s neck, Ferdinand’s around Hubert’s waist, a sweet kiss shared between them.

“Terribly sorry, my love. But I am here now.”

Hubert puts a little space between them and gazes down at Ferdinand's chest before making eye contact again. It is not a coincidence that he licks his lips before he continues:

“You must be so uncomfortable. Let us endeavour to not let this happen again for some time.”

Ferdinand lets out a stuttered breath of his own, hands back at work on his waistcoat and shirt buttons.

“Yes, well... I may have to start waking up a little earlier then, loathe as I am to do so. Although I do think—” Ferdinand trails off as he bares one breast to Hubert, not yet leaking. Still, it is visibly swollen and warm to the touch, his nipple a stiff little peak.

“—Oh,” he continues, “that is rather worse than I thought.”

Hubert can only shiver at the sight and let out a small whimper, pained from having made his husband wait so long at his expense—and from the keen craving he has felt all morning. 

“Ah. Indeed. But—” Hubert now sounds so very small, wistful when he whispers, “I am... So very hungry, Ferdie.”

There’s hardly any space between where Ferdinand is sat and the desk, which leads Hubert to rest his head on Ferdinand’s shoulder. Not yet seated on his husband’s lap as he needs to be, still waiting for his guidance. Embarrassingly, Hubert’s stomach rumbles on cue, and Ferdinand puts his hands up to stroke Hubert’s hair in response, before he lets them drift down Hubert’s back to hold him close.

“Oh sweetling, you’re trembling... You must be starved.”

The words aim to soothe where Ferdinand’s actions instruct: swift and to the point, regardless of his half-naked chest, he invites Hubert along with him to the plush, larger chair at the back of the office, guides awkward, long limbs to find rest on broad, pillowy thighs.

“...Hubert darling, did you lock the door behind you?”

They’re sitting comfortably now, the exercise far from new. Hubert knows exactly how to position himself, wiggles until his body is entirely cradled by his husband’s warmth, hands hooked safely around the back of Ferdinand’s neck. It's so easy nowadays to let Ferdinand be gentle to him like this, and the indulgence it affords him is a vulnerable comfort like no other.

“Mmhm. I took care not to forget this time,” the words are muffled against Ferdinand’s skin, Hubert more concerned with nosing that bared expanse of freckled neck, “I could barely think straight during my meeting. I missed you.”

“Shh, I know,” Ferdinand whispers, turning to tenderly kiss Hubert’s temple while the taller, ganglier man sprawls across his lap. “I’ve got you now, you’re safe.”

And to mark his words as true, Ferdinand draws Hubert close so he can lean heavily into the curve of a sturdy arm, let himself be cradled against an ample breast speckled with coarse ginger hair peeking out from inside Ferdinand’s open shirt. Hubert earns himself a gentle gasp, pried from his husband’s lips when his own rub across a pained, sensitive nipple. When the motion grows more pronounced, Ferdinand’s eyes flutter closed: a promise of relief, from one husband to another.

Hubert may normally be more inclined to show Ferdinand a little care, but today he finds himself so wanting that he simply latches on. The intent isn't to play but to feed, lips wrapped tightly around the reddened peak as he sucks, sucks hard and flicks his greedy tongue across the stubborn nipple, desperate to coax out and swallow down whatever precious liquid he can encourage Ferdinand’s breast to release.

The sudden roughness of Hubert's mouth has Ferdinand gasping for air, the ache of his sensitive chest becoming a lancing pain for the briefest of moments—but then Hubert is snuggled in tight and sucking securely, and the pain folds into buzzing pleasure coated in sweet, syrupy relief.

“Oh…” Ferdinand’s hair tumbles over the back of the chair as he lets his head fall back, “oh, my darling boy…”

The sound Hubert hums in return is just as sweet, young sounding in its unabashed enjoyment of being referred to as Ferdinand’s boy. Still, the praise isn’t enough to distract him from the task at hand. His own eyes have drifted closed, caught somewhere between concentration and relaxation where he's huddled as close to Ferdinand as he can manage, selfishly claiming his warmth while he suckles and drinks. With one hand he grabs at his husband's shirt to keep him anchored in place, and with the other he commandeers the leaking tit, determined in his grasp. Eventually Hubert pulls off for air, but he doesn't lose focus on what he's doing, no. Rather, he licks his lips, still panting while he gives the tit a squeeze, then sighs in hungry relief when milk beads at the tip of the nipple. Hubert practically chortles and laps it up innocently, for the first time looking back up to Ferdinand with a blissful look on his face.

The moment of respite calls Ferdinand back down from his own lulled high, feeling a little dazed himself yet happy to bask in the euphoric expression on Hubert's usually dour face. He raises an eyebrow at Hubert, smiling lazily in turn as he reaches to drag his fingers through Hubert's hair, pulls it away from where it’s shielding his face.

“Look at you...As happy as a pig in shit, you scamp. Ah—” Ferdinand winces when Hubert gives his chest another rough squeeze, letting milk spill into his open mouth.

“Darling, be careful. Don't let it go to waste.” 

Not one to admonish in moments like these, Ferdinand relaxes again slowly while Hubert nuzzles against his breast.

“It's all for you…” Ferdinand reminds, combing out the dry, messy waves of Hubert’s hair in careful strokes of his hand.

“Sorry Ferdie,” comes the absentminded answer, Hubert having lost himself in the feeling of warm skin, soft breast, and delicious milk, “no playing with food, I know.”

When Hubert latches back on, he sits up a little so that he can properly tug and suck at the tit with his hand and lips, draining Ferdinand's breast of all it has to offer. Once it seems the swelling has quelled and no more milk will come, he kisses the nipple gently as if in thanks before looking up to ask, face flustered and lips swollen:

“The other?”

“Please, my love,” Ferdinand answers softly, his eyes heavy with want, “I'm still aching for you. If you’ll just—”

One effortless heave and Ferdinand gets up from the divan to reverse Hubert's position, resting him in the opposite arm. Despite the shift giving Hubert an unwelcome reminder that they're not exactly free for time or privacy, he follows Ferdinand's lead obediently enough, and only offers a miffed huff when he has to find that good comfortable position again. The brief hug and clumsy kiss on cheek he offers Ferdinand will have to make do in apology, given how quickly he settles back into the crook of his arm. Ferdinand then proceeds to unbutton his shirt the rest of the way, letting it slouch off his shoulders to bare his chest completely. They’re both visibly aroused—hardly an uncommon side-effect of their morning feedings—and while Ferdinand is grateful for the mornings when they do have the time to lie in bed and satisfy themselves in all ways, this is not one of those days. There is a pressure to relieve, a hunger to satisfy, and Ferdinand shall see to it for the both of them.

“That’s it, come here sweetling.”

Ferdinand shushes Hubert as he relaxes once more, and cups a second swollen breast as though holding it out for Hubert to feed, his chest still glistening with a sheen of spilled milk mixed with his boy’s saliva.

Hubert is already starting to feel a little full and warm, so as he begins to suck and lazily slurp on Ferdinand's still full tit, he squirms from the feeling of arousal between his legs, moaning more openly when the stream of milk graces his throat once again. A hand paws at Ferdinand's chest and whimpers escape between sucks, the need for something more building up in Hubert with each gulp of heavy comfort sinking to fill his stomach. It's not enough to make him let go of his prize however, lips working in a rhythmic sense of duty at Ferdinand's nipple while his head lulls against his husband's tight hold. Oh, there's nowhere else in the world Hubert would rather be than here.

If asked, Ferdinand would find it difficult to describe the deep contentment he feels from holding and comforting Hubert with his body like this. There was a time in their relationship when he'd never imagined he could see this sort of bliss written plain on Hubert's face. Ferdinand had begun to fear the toll that Hubert's relentless dedication to his work was taking—his body nothing but hard lines drawn out by years of tension, the darkness under his eyes only deepening. They aren’t getting any younger, and Ferdinand has been quite terrified that his husband might work himself into an early grave. So seeing him relaxed and happy like this, and knowing he's the cause… It’s a joy too consuming for words.

“Sweet Hubert,” Ferdinand whispers, “my good boy, you're so lovely…”

He closes his eyes once more, babbling a little in his own resulting pleasure, his cock hardening against Hubert's lax body.

“That's it, take all you want from me…”

Hubert turns enough to be completely pressed against Ferdinand, curled up against him in a foetal position from which he can comfortably keep suckling but also squeeze Ferdinand's breasts together, mouth busy with one nipple and fingers lovingly massaging the other. It’s a far cry from the care with which he’d usually mind his husband's sensitivity and own pleasure, but right now Hubert’s mind is preoccupied with Ferdinand's milk. His only concern is to gorge himself on it. Hubert rocks his hips up just so, hardness pressing into Ferdinand's soft belly: the movement isn’t a conscious search for pleasure, rather a curious instinct born to an addled mind more concerned with moaning and worshiping that delicious nipple in his mouth. A thought barely pierces through the fog, reminding Hubert that he wants it all, he deserves it all, all of his Ferdinand’s gorgeous body, and his mind is hazy enough that he vocalizes it between clumsy sucks, sound only just escaping his stuffed mouth:

“Want it all, Ferdie. Mine.”

Ferdinand moans, distracted by Hubert’s greedy tugs of his breasts, squeezing them together and rubbing them against his face, Hubert’s breath warm and humid with sweet milk.

“Yes, I'm yours, Hubert… Yours alone…”

Though Ferdinand tries to crane his neck down to kiss the top of Hubert's head, he wants to reach for his cock, despite knowing they likely don't have time for that.

“It's all for you, my darling…” he admits, “yours…”

Hubert tears himself away from Ferdinand's chest at that to hook his arms around his darling's neck, pulling him down into a sticky, sweet kiss.

“You taste... You taste so good Ferdie, I can't get enough.”

Ferdinand realizes in that moment that they haven't even properly kissed yet today. Not like this anyway, and he leans into it, licking the sweet mess from Hubert's mouth.

“Mhh... I love you Hubert... I love you. Please say you'll always want me like this.”

Hubert opens his mouth wide and downright whines, dragging his teeth along Ferdinand's tongue when he breaks away to reply:

“Always Ferdinand, I love you. All of you. Everything you give me, always.”

Ferdinand gives a soft, happy moan in response and leans into the kiss again, breaking away only to breathe and to angle his nipple once more against Hubert's mouth. The delicious treat provides a sure distraction and Hubert soon reverts back to sloppy, animalistic slobbering. He loosens his hold on Ferdinand's neck to pay full attention to his chest, a little rougher now in his need. With his lips he pulls at Ferdie's nipple, tugs at the flesh of his breast to save any drop spilled. The milk does eventually let up, and Hubert loses control once he’s faced with the prospect of his sweet running dry, moaning softly in the back of his throat. He's not ready to stop, too content to smother himself in Ferdinand's ample bosom, bury his nose in it, squeezing and massaging those beautiful, beautiful breasts offered to him.

“Shhh... Shh, my Hubert…” Ferdinand strokes Hubert's back, soothing circles hoping to smooth out the creases of Hubert’s childish agitation.

“It's alright, my beauty... you can still suck, I won't stop you.”

Still, the treatment does grow a little rough when no more milk is forthcoming, but Ferdinand holds Hubert close nonetheless, letting him continue to suck and whimper for comfort.

“Easy now,” a routine reminder, “there's my good boy.”

The soothing attention does help Hubert back out of that smaller, selfish space, and once he calms down he pauses his suckling to kiss the hard and likely sore nipple as if in apology. The thrum of arousal won't quite let him down from his high, and Ferdinand’s tit draws him back in for a last few indulgent sucks. But it never lasts forever, and with time the rational mind rouses, pulls Hubert back into a colder, more sensible reality.

“Ah... Ferdinand,” Hubert sounds half-asleep, so deep the pleasure this intimacy gives him “don't we—have to get back to work? Want to stay with you, but…”

Ferdinand takes a deep calming breath of his own when Hubert resurfaces, and leans his head back to stare up at the ceiling.

“We do, we do... loathe as I am to go.” 

Ferdinand’s touch supports the sentiment, hand tangled lovingly in the dark, rather unkempt hair still resting at his breast. Hubert sighs, craning his neck towards the touch, feeling that telltale disappointment that inevitably follows the wonderful floating feeling of his husband feeding him. 

“If only we could spend the rest of the day like this. I've become... Increasingly fond of these moments.”

The admission holds a particular weight, obvious to the both of them.

“I agree,” Ferdinand echoes, still staring at the ceiling, “holding you like this is—”

He shakes his head, not quite knowing what he’s trying to say.

“...It’s important to me.”

Hubert swallows the words that get stuck in his throat, a lump of emotion catching there, much like the buttons of Ferdinand’s shirt catching reluctantly against the buttonholes now the man dresses himself back up, with no small amount of regret.

“Wait,” Hubert manages instead, “allow me.”

A scarred pale hand replaces Ferdinand’s on the buttons, joined by another on the still visible skin once Hubert whisks a handkerchief out of his waistcoat pocket. It’s hardly necessary, given the thorough treatment Ferdinand received from Hubert’s tongue, but the act is one of gratitude, the smallest of courtesies in exchange for his husband’s boundless generosity. Once he’s done, Hubert sits perched and taut on Ferdinand’s lap, fingers busy with the buttons while he presses heartfelt kisses to his bare neck.

The tender ministrations bring a smile to Ferdinand’s lips, who cups Hubert’s chin, tilts it up to claim his mouth again with a kiss. Urgency now sated, they linger close, lips barely brushing in conscientious restraint when they pull apart.

“We should take a vacation soon, don’t you think? Even if it’s only for a weekend, or a day.”

Not one to be deterred by Hubert’s stunned silence, Ferdinand reaches for his discarded cravat and winds it around his collar while he continues:

“I want some significant time to spoil my beloved husband, and to kiss the dark circles out from under his eyes.”

The notion of a vacation remains alien to Hubert, a concept that even the onset of time hasn't made any more attractive to him, except…

Except if I could forget myself and not worry, Hubert thinks, stroking the curve of Ferdinand's face while the realization takes its time on the long journey feelings sometimes require before they form spoken words.

“Perhaps,” Hubert hazards, “we could manage a weekend. Away, the two of us. I think I should... Manage better, were we able to be close like this.”

Ferdinand leans in to press his forehead to Hubert’s, poorly restrained glee sparkling through his hushed, measured tone of voice:

“I think that a weekend to ourselves would have incredible restorative powers. Just my opinion, of course. But I dearly crave a little time to be close to you.”

Hubert laughs a little bitterly at the apologetic tone, feeling guilty for once about the expectation of long working hours Ferdinand knows to associate with him. Leaning back into Ferdinand, he holds them close by sliding his hands up to rest at the nape of that muscular neck, long strands of ginger cascading through his fingers as he goes.

“You may find this admission shocking,” Hubert warns, “but I believe I may feel the same.”

The pause for once comes from the more talkative of the two. Faced with those wide, disbelieving eyes, Hubert explains, “Just you and I, no disturbances. With whatever means at our disposition to ensure the most utter comfort.”

Finally, Hubert pulls back to look Ferdinand in the eye, an admission still hanging on his lips.

“That I can consider this idea without reserve is one of the many gifts you've given me over the years. Thank you.”

“Really?! You would allow me to perhaps... plan something? Just for us!?”

Caught in a sudden embrace closely related to a chokehold, and rather frazzled by the enthusiastic reaction, Hubert stammers, flustered, but wraps his arms tightly around Ferdinand in return nonetheless.

“D-darling, I would love it. I must admit... I have my selfish reasons, for once. As much as I want to spoil you always, I am starting to enjoy the idea of getting spoiled in return.”

The guilt in his workaholic husband’s voice is clear, so Ferdinand hurries about covering Hubert’s face in kisses so that there is no room left for that self-conscious smidgeon.

“How astoundingly lovely, Hubert!” Hubert finds it less so, especially when Ferdinand’s voice booms loud enough for anyone in the vicinity to hear of their premature plans. “I’ll start making preparations at once! And I will clear it with her Majesty of course, though I daresay she wants a vacation for you as much as I do!”

At the mention of Edelgard, Hubert cannot help but laugh and halt Ferdinand's onslaught with a gloved hand to his lips. “Please be aware I will need your help, to relax that is. Though I cannot imagine you would complain of the attention. Still, you must be aware I have a...particular fear of empty time. Do not interrupt me yet! I know that time spent together is never empty of purpose, but it is a step away from a sense of responsibility I struggle to turn off.”

Hubert stops himself, smiles fondly and shakes his head.

“What am I saying? You know all these things already.”

Ferdinand's smile turns wry at that, his parting words falling somewhere between a promise and a threat:

“Fear not, dear husband. I will be sure to keep you extremely busy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, we'd love to hear from anyone who enjoys milk as much as we do!


End file.
